we are not shining stars
by thequibblers
Summary: High School AU. Six friends go on a summer trip and learn a thing or two about family, friendship and life. WARNINGS: Mentions sexual/physical abuse, self-harm, eating disorder, suicide, depression, drugs.
1. Tony

Whoops, another story. Inspired by a Criminal Minds fic. I was reading it last night and fell in love and after I finished, I couldn't help imagining it as an Avengers fic. So, here we are. Next chapter may be up tonight, or tomorrow. Review, pretty please? :-)

P.S.: I'm currently out of ideas for my Anderstark fic. Have you got any ideas?

I own nothing. Title from 'Carry On' by fun.

* * *

Chapter 1: 15th May 1998

Despite what everyone says, Tony does care about his family. And, okay, 'family' only includes his Mum and five-year-old cousin but that's as far as Tony goes. And now it only includes his five-year-old cousin since his Mum died six years ago but he misses her. He really fucking misses her.

It's kind of given that the Stark family is a bunch of assholes but Tony vowed to himself he'd never turn out as his father. Nope. But Tony always ruins his plan by drinking when he feels like shit, by drinking when his father hits him and so on. And lately, that happens often. More often than Tony'd like to admit. Maybe God wants it that way. Maybe Tony should be _exactly _like his father. His father was good, once. Before his mother died. Before he started drinking. He brought Tony presents and hugged him, every day. He smiled at him, told him how proud he were. And then his mother died and everything fell apart. Tony was eleven and he knows it wasn't a car accident. Tony's a smart kid, always been. Maybe _too _smart for his own good. Howard told everyone it was a car accident, a drunken driver hit her car and she hit a tree. Tony knows better. _He _was the one who found her, _he _was the one who read the note, _he _was the one who was too afraid to tell his father.

And sometimes, Tony would really like to follow her. But he knows he can't, he has Peter for god's sake. If Tony leaves, who is there to take care of his five-year-old cousin? Peter's parents are out of question, they were the ones who didn't want their own son. Tonys father? Howard isn't even capable of taking care of himself, let alone a five-year-old. That leaves Tony. But whenever Tony has a bad night and he lies on his bed, bottle in his hand, the bruises on his back still hurting like hell, he wonders what would happen to Peter if Tony'd follow his mother's example. Would Howard take care of him? Would Peter come in a foster home? Would he forgive Tony for leaving him? Questions like these keep Tony awake at night and he can't help the tears that fall down his eyes and he simply clutches the bottle and cries, the dark night consuming him.

* * *

Tony wakes up at 7am, the bottle of vodka lying next to him, blanket at his feet. His back still hurts and he decides whether or not he should skip school. As on cue, Peter pushes the door to his room open and comes in, wearing his Spongebob pajamas, teddy in his arms. Right. Tony has to drop Peter of at kindergarten. He sighs and slowly gets up, wincing when the pain in his back gets worse.

"Hey, Pete, how about you get dressed and then we have breakfast?", asks Tony, rubbing a hand over his face. His cousin grins and nods excitedly. "Okay, Tony!", says Peter and runs out of the room. Walking into the bathroom, Tony quickly takes a shower and stares at his face in the mirror as he gets dressed. The thoughts from last night are coming back to his mind and Tony simply shakes his head. He is basically raising Peter. Making sure he eats enough, driving him to kindergarten, picking him up, playing with him, putting him to sleep. He is sure Peter sees him as his father, not his cousin. Thinking of Peters parents, anger rises in Tony and he forces himself to not break the mirror with his fist. Peters dad is Howards brother, so it's no surprise he is a dick. But whose parents abandon their own child? Even worse, when the child is one-year-old? His own family makes Tony sick and, again, he swears he'll never end up like his father. But then he spots the empty bottle on his bed and the anger in him is soon replaced by guilt. No wonder Howard is disappointed in him.


	2. Steve

Next chapter! Thank you for favoriting this story, that means a lot to me! Hope you like it!

Also, I think the chapters are always going to be so short. Maybe a bit longer but let's see. Sorry!

P.S.: Natasha is next.

I own nothing.

* * *

Chapter 2: 15th May 1998

Steve gets up at 5am. He gets dressed in sweatpants and shirt, goes for a run for an hour and then comes back home to take a shower. He then gets dressed - dark jeans and white t-shirt - and starts making breakfast. After the table is set, he proceeds to wake up his mother, politely ignoring the fresh black eye and bottle of scotch on the floor.

Steve knows. He knows he is not allowed to ask questions. He knows he should tell someone. He knows it's his job to take care of his mother. He knows his father will continue doing this. And he also knows the impact if he tells someone. So he stays silent, never telling a soul what happens at home, never inviting any friends over.

* * *

School starts at 8:30.

Steve meets up with Clint in front of the school gates at 8:00. It's always been like that. Steve is there first. Clint arrives then, driving an old 1983 Datsun. Bruce is third, books in one hand, an apple in the other. After five minutes, Thor arrives. God knows why his parents named him that. They all talk and wait until Natasha arrives, pale and thin, her red hair a contrast to her white skin. She looks like she hasn't slept all night but nobody says anything. Tony is the sixth and last one to arrive, backpack losely slung over his shoulder, sunglasses on his nose. It's five minutes before the final bell rings but nobody ever asks why Tony is late, they all know he needs to take his little cousin to kindergarten.

Something is up with Tony, Steve knows it. Something is going on at his home, something is blatantly wrong. But he never says anything, he keeps his mouth shut. They're a weird group of friends. They know they can always count on each other but everyone has secrets. Everyone has issues and needs help but they're not helping each other. Steve just wants someone to know what happens at his home but he's scared. He's scared his father will find out that he talked. He's scared his friends will judge and leave him. And he stays silent, just like he has his whole life.


	3. Natasha

Chapter 3! Thanks for the follows and favourites! :-) I've only had this story up for nearly two days, wow. Maybe review? ;) I'd love to know what you think of this story!

P.S.: Natasha's character is loosely based off the character Lia from the book 'Wintergirls' by Laurie Halse Anderson. If you haven't read it yet, you should! It really is an astoundig novel.

* * *

Chapter 3: 15th May 1998

'[Persephone] was filled with a sense of wonder, and she reached out with both hands to take hold of the pretty plaything. And the earth, full of roads leading every which way, opened up under her...She cried with a piercing voice...But not one of the immortal ones, or of the human mortals, heard her.' _Homeric Hymn to Demeter_, translated by Gregory Nagy.

* * *

Natasha stares at the plate before her, vaguely listening to her step-mother.

_She called thirty-three times._

She can't eat this. Everything on the plate screams 'eat me', but she fights against it. A muffin (410), an orange (75), waffles (180).

Stacy's words come crashing into her head, invading her thoughts, not asking if it's okay.

_Body found in bathtub._

She keeps her mouth shut from screaming, she fears if she opens her mouth she'll throw up or cry or scream or throw insults at Stacy. And it isn't Stacy's fault, no. Her step-mother only told her what she would hear at school anyway.

Natasha nods, showing Stacy that she's listening, even though she closes her eyes and wants to cover up her ears with her hands.

Maya shouldn't have died this way.

* * *

Natasha is the fifth one to arrive at school. Clint eyes her, a concerned look on his face but she ignores him, trying to take hold on the conversation between Bruce and Thor. Her thoughts keep wandering off to the conversation with Stacy, though.

_Her parents found her...Police investigating._

She refrains herself from screaming and silently waits with the others for Tony. Should she tell them? Maya was their friend, too. They weren't as close with her as Natasha was, still, she was their friend. She quickly banishes this thought from her mind. They already know it anyway, she tells herself. It probably was on the news. And if they know about it? Why isn't anybody saying something?

Tony arrives and they slowly make their way into the school building. Only one more month of school. She can do this. And when school is over, she can hide in her house, meeting up with her friends from time to time. She'll be 18 in June. Stacy can't force her to eat anymore. She'll be able to make her own decisions then. They break up in the hallway, everyone going to their seperate classes. Bruce with Tony to Chemistry, Thor and Clint took Biology and Natasha and Steve are making their over to their English class. She can't concentrate on class, her thoughts are drifting off, to Maya and her phone which is now lying on the street somewhere, after Natasha had thrown it out of the open car window.

_She called thirty-three times._

It's not nice when girls die.


	4. Bruce

Thanks for the reviews! I'm so glad you like this story :') I have nothing else to say, enjoy!

I own nothing. This sucks.

P.S.: Who should be next, Clint or Thor?

* * *

Chapter 4: 15th May 1998

He slowly breathes in and out.

He fumbles with his keys, tries to push them into the lock, but he lets them fall, again. He crouches down to get them, carefully placing his house key into the lock and a faint 'click' can be heard. He pushes the door open, revealing the big empty house and he breathes in. And out.

Bruce goes straight to the kitchen, balling his fist and digging his finger nails into his palms. He repeats it, again and again, taking a deep breath, counting the seconds. _One. Two. Three. _Just like his therapist has told him.

School was the same as usual. _Four. Five. Six. _He met up with the others and they walked to class. _Seven. Eight. Nine._ Tony blew up something in chemistry again. They both got detention, Tony for blowing up and Bruce for not stopping him. _Ten. Eleven. Twelve. _He's not mad at Tony, no. Stuff like this happens almost once a week. _Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen._ The conversation at lunch got him thinking, though.

They all were silent, it was a long weekend for all of them, but usually Tony would be telling them about it, just like he did every Monday. This Monday, though, he was silent. Bruce had observed him, wondering what was wrong. And then he looked at the others, too, _really _looked at them. He noticed how pale and thin Natasha had gotten. He noticed how Steve was always about to open his mouth to say something but never did. He noticed how Clint seemed to fight an inner battle with himself, his eyes wary and tired. He noticed how Thor played with the food on his tablet, not eating anything, his eyes always roaming around the cafeteria, looking for someone. He noticed how Tony kept his back straight and always flinched whenever he had to buckle. But Bruce stayed quiet, just like the others.

_Forty-three. Forty-four. Forty-five._

Then Tony had looked up, his eyes beaming, just like they did every time he got a new idea. "Hey guys", asked he and five pairs of eyes were trained on him, a questioning look on all of their faces. "What, Tony?", answered Steve.

"What are you doing this summer?"

Bruce didn't answer. An awkward silence suddenly fell on the table around them and they all avoided looking at one another. It was Clint who broke it. "Staying at home, dunno." This was enough for Tony. "My dad got a cabin up in the woods, we could stay there for a few weeks. The trip's eight hours long."

"You expect me to stay in a car for _eight hours _with five boys?" asked Natasha, glaring at Tony. He grinned, but even Bruce could see it didn't reach his eyes. "Yup. We all need to take a time off."

"I'm in", said Steve and everyone stared at him, shocked looks on their faces, because _wow _Steve never agrees to Tonys plans. "Glad to hear that, Steve, buddy!", exclaimed Tony happily and eventually everyone gave in and agreed, sending each other worried glances.

_Eighty-one. Eighty-two. Eighty-tree._

Bruce knew he couldn't leave his mother alone. Who knows, she might have one of her episodes when he's gone.

_Eighty-four. Eighty-five. Eighty-six._

Breathe in and out.

_Eighty-seven. Eighty-eight. Eighty-nine._

He curls his hand into a fist.

_Ninety. Ninety-one. Ninety-two._

He closes his eyes.

_Ninety-three. Ninety-four. Ninety-five._

He takes a deep breath.

_Ninety-six. Ninety-seven._

He lets out a soft whimper.

_Ninety-eight. Ninety-nine._

He opens his eyes.

_One-hundred._

Bruce looks at the meds before him, knowing he should take them up to his mother. But he just can't bring himself to do it. He is scared, scared of the summer and the trip, scared of his eighteenth birthday in September, scared going to some College, leaving his Mum alone. After all, he is the only thing she had left.


	5. Clint

Thank you so much for the reviews! Wow. I've never thought you would actually like this story, you know, it was just an idea of mine and I needed to write it down. Yep. Thanks again!

Also, sorry for the wait! I know you're used to an update every two days or so but yeah, school stuff and ugh. You know.

A few things before I leave you with Chapter 5:

1) Thor is next and after that, the story will be focused on the trip and also more focused on the characters' problems.

2) Get ready for Thor/Loki feels in the next chapter. But I'll probably mess it up and you'll end up reading this story emotionless. Because it's me. And I can't write to save my life, to be honest.

3) I'm working on my Anderstark fic. The next chapter will be Kurt meeting Tony, yep.

Enjoy!

P.S.: I own nothing. I'd like to believe I own Clint Barton, though. Never going to happen.

P.P.S.: Longest chapter so far! Nearly over thousand words. But, you know, _nearly_ ;).

* * *

"A man takes his sadness down to the river and throws it in the river

but then he's still left

with the river. A man takes his sadness and throws it away

but then he's still left with his hands." Richard Siken, _Boot Theory, _Crush

* * *

Chapter 5: 15th May 1998

Clint stares at his hands, still hearing his moth- _Julie _muttering under her breath. He'd gotten used to call her Julie, despite her being his mother and all. It was always Julie, always.

His first word as a baby wasn't 'momma' or 'daddy', hell he didn't even know where his father was in all this, his first word was Julie and he continued to call her that until he came into kindergarten. And a boy asked him why he was calling his mother by her name and Clint simply shrugged, this was normal for him, he was used to this, _fuck, _he was five years old.

So he asked her, went up to her after dinner and looked at her, with his big grey eyes, and he asked:"Can I call you mommy?"

And her eyes widened, the plate in her hand fell down to the floor, shattered into millions of pieces just like Clints childhood.

Call her mum and she'd be done with you. No second chances, no explaining, she'd kick you out, with no money and spare clothes, with no place to sleep and eat, and Clint learned this, learned this the day he called her mommy and he had to spend the night outside, in the freezing December night, and he woke up by snow falling down.

And that place, where he spent the night as a little kid, that garden behind their house, it became his favourite place on earth, his own little world, where no-one bothered him, where he was isolated from the rest of the world, and he could ignore everything for hours.

He showed the garden Natasha one day, when they were ten and stupid and small compared to the big world around them, and she laughed, called him pathetic, told him to stop living in his fantasy but she came by one night, when they were thirteen, and she cried and sniffled, her eyes red, and they went into the garden and he held her, and she never said a bad thing anymore. She was the only friend of Clints allowed to come over, they knew each other since they were babies, and his mother - no no Julie - and Julie left them alone when she wasn't out or sleeping or passed out somewhere, and Natasha never, ever, asked why he called her Julie, and honestly, he was just really fucking grateful for that.

It kind of became routine for him to go outside when he was feeling bad or pissed off and just mad at the world, for no reason at all, and lately that happened more than often.

After school, the day where Tony suggested a summer trip and they all agreed to go-

well, Clint agreed after Natasha did, he looked at her and felt a bang inside him, they were once so close, Natasha knew about his garden, and Natasha was his best friend, the only friend he hadn't gotten to know in high school unlike the others, and Natasha was the one he could trust his life with, beautiful _oh so _beautiful Natasha. But then something happened, their friendship broke, Natasha didn't trust him anymore, she was getting thinner and her eyes seemed dead, _she _seemed dead and it wasn't the Natasha he knew, not the Natasha with her russian accent and her flaming red hair and her love for gymnastics, not the Natasha he had fallen in love with. And, _fuck fuck fuck, _really, that wasn't even his biggest problem, being in love with Natasha and _you know _teenager stuff, his biggest problem was lying before him.

He stares wordlessly at the small plastic bag before him, the white substance faintly gleaming in the sunlight and _damn Clint you fucking idiot what are you doing put that down put that back in the bag and throw it out-_

The voice in his head continues to scream at him and Clint closes his eyes, he knows he shouldn't be doing this, _fuck Clint FUCK do you want to end up like your mother, like the woman who locked you out the night when you called her mum like the woman who sells herself like the woman who did an oh so fantastic job raising you-_

and he is in his garden and shuts the voice out.


	6. Thor

Chapter 6! As promised, Thor/Loki feels!

I own nothing. Boo.

* * *

"Some people turn sad awfully young. No special reason, it seems, but they seem almost to be born that way. They bruise easier, tire faster, cry quicker, remember longer and, as I say, get sadder younger than anyone else in the world. I know, for I'm one of them." - Ray Bradbury, _Dandelion Wine_

* * *

Chapter 6: 15th May 1998

He is six and Thor is hiding up in their treehouse while Loki is at the swings, his lower lip trembling slightly, tears swelling in his eyes. Thor watches him, his one year younger brother, and wonders what would've happened if he didn't say these three words, wonders why he said them, knowing exactly how sensitive his brother is.

_I hate you. _Thor recalls how Lokis expression changed, his eyes darkening, his face going pale.

_You're not even part of this family._ And Thor mentally slaps himself, he is six and small and stupid, but he does know how these kind of words affect Loki and, even though Loki is five years old, and can't properly write, Loki knows what these words mean, and _he knows, _he knows he is adopted and he knows that Thor will never be his real brother no matter how much he wishes for that, no matter how much he adores him, looks up to him.

Loki looks around, the tears now falling from his eyes and Thor watches him how he stomps his feet and pulls on his hair and Thor quickly climbs down the ladder, regretting his words, only wanting to apologize and be a good big brother.

* * *

They are fifteen, fourteen in Lokis case, and Thor stays up late, chatting with his new friends from school and he is quietly laughing in his room at something Clint said, but Thor looks up when he hears the door open and he gets up from his computer, crosses the space to his door and opens it, silently walking to the stairs and looking down. And..._oh._

Loki closes the door but Thor can see how he walks with a limp, how he winces when his elbow hits the doorframe by accident, and then he turns on the light and _fuck._ Thors mind rattles, he is debating with himself, _should I talk to him or go to my room and act as nothing ever happened?_

Lokis face is black and purple, bruises can be seen on his bare arms, and Thor can make out blood on his face, and before his brain can fully register what is going on, Thor is walking, his feet carrying him down the stairs.

"What happened?"

Loki jumps and turns around, wincing when the pain gets worse. His whole body is aching and he just really wants to take a shower and sleep for a while, thank you very much.

"Get out of my way, Thor", says Loki, but Thor simply takes his arm and drags him into the bathroom, ignoring Lokis insults thrown at him.

"Sit", demands Thor and Loki silently sits down on the edge of the bathtub, watching how his brother waters a washcloth.

Turning around, Thor musters him with an ureadable expression on his face. "Talk to me, brother. Who did this?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Look at your face, Loki! Who did this?"

"This is none of your business."

"I want to help you."

"You can't help me."

"I am going to tell father."

"You wouldn't."

"I would, believe me. Now, who did this to you?"

Loki hesitates. "Some boys from my school. No big deal. I insulted them. They got mad."

"It's three in the morning."

"So? Now, if I may go to my room?"

Thor gets out of his way, letting the washcloth drop into the sink. He knows Loki is lying, but what can he do? Thor goes to his room five minutes laters, turning his computer off and getting under his blanket all while wondering when exactly he lost his brother.

* * *

Thor is seventeen and in high school, football player, quite popular- if you believe his friends. They're in the cafetaria and everyone is silent, eating, while lost in their thoughts, but Thor can't focus on his food, he keeps looking up and he scans the cafetaria for Loki. He tries to listen to what Tony is saying now, but his eyes continue searching for his brother.

He spots him, sitting at a table with a few of his classmates- never friends, never, Loki always claims he needs no friends- looking tired as always, tired and pale and thin, picking at his food.

He vaguely listens to the conversation around him and suddenly, "My dad got a cabin up in the woods, we could stay there for a few weeks. The trip's eight hours long."

Tony looks at them expectant and Steve shrugs, agreeing. Thor considers his options. A summer trip with his best friends? Or another summer staying at home, trying not to be hurt by Loki ignoring him? Everyone looks at him, waiting for an answer and Thor forgets Loki, and the night in the bathroom when Loki lied to him about getting beaten up, and he forgets how Loki comes home late in the night, and he forgets everything and simply says, "I'm in!" and smiles, the smile not reaching his eyes, though, and watches Loki, wondering what he did wrong to deserve this, this hatred from Loki towards him, wondering when his family broke apart.

* * *

A/N: Have you got any ideas for the next chapters? Or, do you wish to see a certain pairing happen? I kind of want to add Stony to this story, what do you think? And don't worry, you'll find out who did this to Loki ;).


	7. 26th July 1998

Oh gooooooood, I am sorry for the wait. School and stuff. You know? Enjoy! :-)

All rights go to Marvel.

* * *

Chapter 7: 26th July 1998

It hasn't always been like that. Tony had a good life. He had loved his parents. His parents loved him. He was too young to understand that the name 'Stark' was famous all around the world. He was too young to understand his dad never really loved him. His job was his life. And then Tony turned eleven. He was smart. He knew when his father lied. He knew when his mother said she was tired that she had drunk again. He knew everything.

His cousin Peter was born when Tony was eleven. He played with him, he loved him.

His father yelled at him for the first time when he was eleven.

His mother killed herself when he was eleven.

He knew something was wrong with her. She stopped talking to his father. She started drinking. It was only one glass, every day. But she got worse. She stopped saying Tony goodnight. She stopped hugging him. She stopped kissing him. She stopped telling him that she loved him.

And Tony noticed, noticed something was wrong, thinking if he should tell his father, but he never said anything. Until one morning, on his mothers birthday, when he walked into his parents bedroom.

He thought she was sleeping. She looked so peaceful, he didn't want to wake her. He stood in front of her, admired her beauty. Then he noticed she wasn't breathing. Then he noticed the bottle of pills. Then he started panicking. Shaking her, screaming at her, telling her to wake up. Tears fell from his eyes and while he sat there, next to her on the bed, he saw the note. It was lying under her pillow and Tony put it into his pocket, not opening it, not wanting to read his mothers last words. He went into his room and stashed the note into one of his books and that's where it still is, after five years.

Then, everything passed in a blur. His father came home. Tony stopped crying, stood tall in front of his father, told him what happened. Howard pushed him away, ran up the stairs and Tony stayed downstairs, staring at his feet.

Howard told their family it was a car accident. Some dumb, drunken man hit her car on her way home. On the funeral, while everyone was telling them their sympathy, Tony was so close to tell them it wasn't an accident. He wanted to tell them that his mother killed herself. That she found no purpose of living anymore. That she left her only son, Tony, small and scared.

Peters parents left when he was one year old. They left him in front of Tonys door steps, no note or anything, only a small baby sleeping peacefully. Tony is still filled with hatred for Peters parents to this very day. He could never understand how someone can leave their child, without any further information, but then he thinks of his mother and how she left him, and Tonys world crumples down once again, until he remembers, his mother _did _leave a note, and that note is still unread, still hidden in one of Tonys books, that book still standing in Tonys bookshelf.

Tony starts raising Peter. He feeds him. He plays with him. He stays with him when he can't sleep at night. Howard accepted Peter with no comment, simply nodded when Tony told him what happened, but never took care of him. _Fuck, _Tony is twelve years old, he has made friends in school and really likes to hang out with them, with Steve and Bruce and Clint, but they don't know about Peter, and his father got worse, too, he hits Tony on a regular basis, and Tony cries into the night, _why is his life so fucked up? _Only Virginia knows- _Pepper_, she wants to be called Pepper- only she knows, his childhood best friend, and he's so glad to have someone who knows his secrets and can help him with Peter and she always takes care of Peter when Tony is too tired to do so, and sometimes when is father drank too much again and Peter can't sleep, Tony goes over to Pepper and takes Peter with him, and while Pepper holds Peter, Tony curls up on Peppers bed and lets the tears fall.

* * *

Tony stares at the bag before him, the clothes lying next to it, and then to Peter sitting at his desk and drawing. He can't do this. It was his suggestion, _he knows, _but he can't leave Peter alone. He's never felt this confused in his life. A summer without taking care of a five year old and without his father would be great, he needs this, but still- _Peter._

He sighs and walks over to Peter, an idea in his mind. "Hey kiddo, we need to talk", says Tony, while lowering down to his knees. Peter looks up, eyes wide and blue and so innocent and Tony swallows. _'It's for the best', _he thinks.

"What do you think of staying at Peppers place this summer, for two or three weeks?"

Peter frowns. "With you?"

Ton shakes his head. "No, without me. I'll be going somewhere this summer and I can't take you with me."

"Where are you going?"

"Me, and some other friends of mine will drive somewhere for the summer. Like a holiday."

Peters slowly nods, biting his bottom lip. "I want to come with you."

"Sorry, Pete. It's for teenagers. But doesn't a summer with Pepper sounds great?" Tony tries a shaky smile, waiting for Peters reply.

"I like Pepper", answers he. "But I'll miss you."

Tony hugs Peters, fighting the tears that are threatening to fall from his eyes. "I'll miss you, too, buddy. It's only two weeks."

Tony silently prays Pepper hasn't made any plans for the summer, he still needs to ask her and he doesn't know what he'll do if his plan doesn't work out.

* * *

"Of course I'll do it, Tony."

Tony breathes out in relief. He's sitting on Peppers couch in her living room, while Peter is sitting on an armchair, eyes glued on the TV.

"Pep, you're the best."

And Tony means it, he really fucking means it, Pepper was always there for him, and stuck with him through his hardest times, but the worst thing is, Tony can't repay her.

Pepper smiles and squeezes his hand. "You've told me that, like, a hundred times now."

"And I still mean it", answers Tony.

Peppers smile fades and she eyes him warily. "Is everything okay?"

Her question startles Tony. Nothing in his life has been okay, not since his mother passed away. How the hell is he supposed to answer to that kind of question?

Tony nods and flashes her a smile. "Yep. I think a summer trip is really what I need."

"Yeah", says Pepper and her smile is back. "Have fun with your friends, Tony. Me and Peter are gonna have a great time together."

"Thanks so much, Pep."

Tony looks to Peter, at how he laughs at the TV-Show he's watching, and he swallows, he swallows down the guilt and the pain and the anxiety and hopes this summer will make him forget all of this.


	8. 27th July 1998

Sorry for the wait! My laptop was broken, I studied because exams are coming up, got my wisdom teeth removed and shit. All rights go to Marvel. And to FUN. for being the inspiration of this chapter. And Richard Siken.

And I've wanted to ask you something...What do you think of a Harry Potter AU? One, where Hogwarts is a university in London? No magic and such. I've seen a graphic like that on tumblr and I am so close to writing it. What do you think?

Thanks for the reviews, favourites and thanks to everyone who stumpled upon this and read it.

* * *

Chapter 8: 27th July 1998

(tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake

and dress them in warm clothes again)

Steve was a happy kid, once.

He was as happy as a five-year old could get.

He loved walking to the park, which was only two minutes away from his house, he liked playing in the grass, getting dirt on his pants. He liked the other kids in his neighborhood and they slowly became friends. He liked running to the park every morning in the summer, he liked playing in the snow with his friends in the winter.

Then he came back home one day and heard it. He saw it, too, and that was where everything changed.

Yes, Steve was a happy kid, once. Not anymore. But more on that later.

* * *

(and you're trying to smile,

and they're trying to smile)

"Are you _sure _you want to go?", pressed Stacy.

Natasha rolled her eyes and turned to her step-mother, impatiently. "Yes, I _am _sure."

"I mean, after what happened with Maya...", Stacy trailed off.

"_What?"_

Stacy eyed her warily. "It might be still a shock."

"No. It was two months ago, I _am _fine."

Natasha continued packing clothes in her trunk, regretting that she hadn't packed the night before. She now had half an hour to finish packing and be at Tony's at 9am.

She finished packing with lying a few books on the top of her clothes and closed the trunk. With a sigh, she casted a glance at the clock. 8:42am, it read.

Heaving her trunk down the stairs, her father came into sight, a toast in one hand, car keys in another. "Want to eat something?", he offered.

She shook her head and pointed to the clock hanging on the wall. "No time. We have to go." He finished the rest of his toast and nodded, taking her trunk in one hand. Natasha turned to Stacy who watched them closely. When she noticed that Natasha watched her, she quickly put a smile on her face. "Have fun", she told her. "Don't do anything I wouldn't."

Natasha forced a smile. "Thanks." And quickly made her way out of the door, aware of Stacy watching her.

They arrived at 8:55am at Tony's house. Everyone was already there, waiting for her at a van, which, Natasha thought, belonged to Tonys father. She said goodbye to her own father, and hopped out of the car, getting her trunk out of the car.

"So", Tony clapped his hands together, looking around. "Finally, _everyone _decided to join us", he said while glancing at Natasha, earning a "Shut up, Stark" from her. "Before we set off, though, we need to decide on some rules."

"Rules?", Bruce asked, yawning. "Can't we just get in the van and, I don't know, _sleep_?"

"Nope", stated Tony, popping the 'p'. "Rules. The first rule is", he said, holding one finger up. "No bickering. No arguments. No fights. Seriously, if you fight in the car I'm gonna drop you off in the middle of nowhere."

"I do not like this rule", answered Thor, frowning.

Clint agreed. "Yeah, Stark, we argue every single moment."

"I have a feeling that this here is leading to an argument", piped Steve up.

Tony rolled his eyes. "_Fine._ Arguments are allowed. Okay, now, rule number one: if you're depressed, you can stay right here. I mean it, I want sunshine, flowers, rainbows and kittens on this trip. _Nobody gets moody. _No sulking around. Got it?"

Everyone nodded. "Second rule?", asked Natasha. Tony opened his mouth but closed it again. "That was the only rule", he said after a few seconds.

Steve rolled his eyes, and muttered under his breath. "What was that, Rogers?", Tony said. Steve put on a beaming smile, though his voice dripped with sarcasm. "Nothing, Tony, your rule is perfect!"

They laughed and a relief washed over Natasha. She didn't know why she wanted to blow this trip off at first. While Thor packed all their stuff into the trunk, Natasha was glad to agreeing to this. She needed her friends, now more than ever.

* * *

(if you love me, henry, you don't love me in a way i understand)

Steve was happy, once.

He had friends, he liked them, his parents loved him. Everything was perfect for him.

And then, it changed.

It was a sunny afternoon, one of the few nice days in September 1986. He walked home alone, as his parents were working. He didn't mind. Steve liked walking, and he loved running. It was that sunny afternoon in September 1986 when it all started.

He pushed open his door, and had his mouth opened to call his mother, but stopped in his tracks when he heard voices. His parents' voices.

He moved closer to the kitchen door and peered inside. His mother was sitting at the kitchen table, on the edge of the stool. His father was walking around the kitchen frantically, talking loudly. Steve drowned the voices out and watched them. His father suddenly stopped and grabbed his mother by her arm up to her feet. She looked at him and if Steve had watched closely, he would have noticed the scared look on her face.

He contemplated saying something but then his father raised his hand and smacked his mother right across the face.

The worst were the nights.

Steve lie awake most nights, the sight of his father slapping his mother still burned in his mind. He heard the cries and noises from his parents bedroom. He heard his mother begging his father to stop. But he made no attempt to stop and so it continued.

Yes, Steve was a happy kid. But that changed on the 3rd September 1986 at the age of five.

* * *

**A/N: I've decided on the pairings! Tony/Steve, simply because I _adore _them together. No Thor/Loki, sorry folks. They are and will be brothers for me and I don't like incest, oops. Clint/Natasha because some people requested it and they're my OTP, after Stony. And some Natasha/Loki, but only a little bit. They have a history together ;). To clear things up: Stacy is Natasha's step-mother and Maya was Natasha's (best) friend who killed herself. Thanks for reading! Reviews, pretty please? :-)**


	9. Almost

Chapta 9 iz pretty fine. I don't know what to say, really, enjoy! I own nothing, sadly. All rights go to Marvel. And Richard Siken. I know it's short, but it is something, so read it, love it, favourite it, review and that stuff. Please. Aaaand it's 2:50 here, so I'm off to bed, see ya folks.

* * *

Chapter 9: Almost

(eventually something you love is going to be taken away. and then you will fall to the floor crying. and then, however much later, it is finally happening to you: you're falling to the floor crying thinking, "i am falling to the floor crying," but there's an element of the ridiculous to it — you knew it would happen and, even worse, while you're on the floor crying you look at the place where the wall meets the floor and you realize you didn't paint it very well)

* * *

In Summer 1998, Natasha Romanoff started eating.

In Summer 1998, Clint Barton would forgive someone. Kind of.

In Summer 1998, Bruce Banner had enough, Thor Odinson broke down in front of his friends, Tony Stark stopped drinking.

In Summer 1998, Loki Laufeyson tried to kill himself.

In Summer 1998, Steve Rogers was happy.

But more on that later.

* * *

(i'm battling monsters, i'm pulling you out of the burning buildings

and you say_ i'll give you anything _but you never come through)

* * *

Bruce felt comfortable around his friends. Almost.

Sure, they were nice and liked him and tried to help each other as often as possible, but there was something that they could never understand.

Having to deal with a schizophrenic mother, for instance.

That was the reason Bruce never wanted to take part in this trip, he never wanted to leave his mother behind. But his father made him go. He promised to take care of her. And Bruce left.

Bruce was the ony thing his mother had left, really. Of course, there was his father, still loving her and looking after her, but Bruce was...different. Special. She seemed to be back to her old self whenever Bruce was around. She talked to him about his future and friends. His mother was normal when Bruce talked to her. Almost.

His whole life revolved around that little word, _almost_.

He was never quite finished and he never really started.

His mother had good days once in while. To be more precise, every day was a good day. If she took her meds, it was a _fantastic _day, even. But every day, this little word lured somewhere, ready to attack.

She had good days. _Almost._

Like, the day when Bruce told her about the trip. He was slow and cautious, and at first, asked her how she felt. "Oh, I'm feeling fine." _Almost._

And, _of fucking course, _Bruce had forgotten her meds in the kitchen and he told her about his summer plans and his mother- well, that day turned out to be not so good.

But now it was too late, Bruce thought, while sitting in the backseat of the van. He observed his friends. Steve was driving- they all voted that he was the best driver. Natasha immediately called shotgun and as Clint looked like he wanted to protest she glared at him and he quickly got into the backseat. Clint sat at the window on the driver's side. So did Tony. He sat behind Steve, a small desk between Tony and Clint. Thor took the seat behind Natasha and Bruce occupied the one at the window on Natasha's side.

And so it began.

* * *

(here i am

leaving you clues. i am singing now while rome

burns. we are all just trying to be holy. my applejack,

my silent night, just mash your lips against me.

we are all going forward. none of us are going back)

* * *

Clint said he was bored not even ten minutes into the trip. Bruce thought this was a bad idea, the trip that is, but said nothing. Tony suggested to play 'Never Have I Ever', but Natasha pointed out you could only play that game with alcohol. At that, Tony smirked mischievously and started to say something until Steve cut him off with, "We are not drinking right now, Tony" and Tony shut up and sulked.

Thor said he was hungry after another fifteen minutes and, to be honest, Bruce was surprised Thor kept quiet for so long. And that led to Clint saying he was hungry, too, and Tony joined them and, together, they whined for so long until Natasha threatened them to poison them in their sleep and that shut them up.

This was a bad idea.

This whole trip was a bad idea.

* * *

"I'm bored."

"What a surprise."

"Shut it, Stark."

"Make me, Barton."

Steve sighed in the front. "We're not even two hours into the trip."

"That's why I'm bored."

"I am hungry."

"Thor, we stopped for food forty-five minutes ago."

"I finished mine."

"And mine, too. Thanks for that, Thor."

"You are fairly welcome, friend Banner."

"That was _sarcasm."_

"_'Friend Banner?'_ Thor, why do you speak like that?"

"Like what, friend Stark?"

"Like _that._"

"All of my family speak so in the north."

"In the north? I thought you were from New Mexico?"

"That's where he lived before he moved to New York, you dumbass."

"_See!_ New Mexico isn't in the north...Is it?"

"Clint, do even pay attention in geography?"

"Stop laughing, Rogers."

"Tony's laughing, too!"

"That's because I'm Tony, Stevie. _I _am allowed to laugh at Clint's stupidity."

"What is the difference?"

"Have you even _seen _me?"

"Yeah, I have and, to be quite honest, I am not really impressed."

"Ouch, Steve, that hurt my feelings."

"Did it? _So _sorry."

"That's it. I wanted to tell you my new, cool nickname for you but you have ruined it."

"New, cool nickname? You never pick nicknames."

"Says _who_?"

"Me."

"And what exactly do you have to contribute to society?"

"Wha-? Where did that come from?"

"Exactly."

...Then-

"You two bricker like an old married couple."

"Shut it over there, Banner."

* * *

(i sleep. i dream. i make up things

that i would never say. i say them very quietly)

* * *

In 1998, Natasha Romanoff kissed Clint Barton.

In 1998, Clint Barton made mistakes.

In 1998, Thor Odinson disappeared, Bruce Banner went to a funeral, Steve Rogers rejected someone. Kind of.

In 1998, Tony Stark fell in love.

But that is a whole different story and happens (much) later.


End file.
